


Sam's Tonsils

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, Caring John, Gen, Preseries, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets sent home sick from school and Dean has to go pick him up. Two little shorts about Sam and his tonsil problems and how eventually they've gotta go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam's Tonsils

Dean glanced at Sam over his cereal. Sam was hunched over his toast, moving it around on his plate. There were only a few bites taken from the toast.

"Eat up Sammy." Dean said taking a bite of cereal. Sam looked up at Dean, and Dean was surprised at ow pale Sam was.

"Not hungry." Sam croaked. 

"You sick?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged. "Can you go to school?" Sam nodded and got up from the table. He tossed his toast in the trash and put his plate in the sink. Dean drank the milk from the bottom of his cereal bowl and then followed suit. He grabbed the keys to the truck and went outside. John had taken the Impala with him on a hunt a few hours North of the town they were living in. 

Dean tossed his bag into the cab of the truck. It landed in the middle of the bench seat. Sam had to push it out of the way before he could climb into the truck. He closed the door and leaned his head on the window as Dean backed out of the driveway. He sighed. It was going to be a bad day. A long, bad day. All Sam wanted to do was curl up in bed and go back to sleep. He felt woozy when his head wasn't propped up on something and his body ached when he moved. He wasn't sick enough to miss school. He was behind enough, he didn't need to miss any more work. 

"Sammy," Dean said quietly when he pulled up outside the Jr. High. Sam's eyes opened. "Time to get out. You sure you want to be here? You're not looking so good." Dean reached over and felt Sam's cheek. He felt warm. 

"I can't miss any more work Dean. I'm already behind everyone else." Sam said, his voice hoarse. Dean thought he saw tears well up in Sam's eyes, but Sam was out of the truck before he could be sure. He watched Sam slink through the light rain into the school before driving himself down the street to the high school. 

Sam stopped at his locker and grabbed the book he needed for English before going to class. He got to his desk and sat down, pulling his jacket closer around his body. The teacher had the window open. There were still ten minutes before class officially started and the room was empty. He crossed his arms on the desk and rested his head on his arms, closing his eyes. 

Sam jumped awake when a hand touched his back. He sat up and looked around. His teacher, Mr. Lewis, was crouched by his desk. 

"Are you okay Sam?" Mr. Lewis asked, concern etched all over his face. Sam nodded and blew a slow breath out through his nose. 

"You don't look very good, and sleeping before class isn't really your style. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." Sam said. His voice cracked. Mr. Lewis sighed and stood up. The bell rang and students started flooding through the door. Sam ran his hands through his hair and propped his head up on his hands. 

When the bell rang after class Sam gathered up his books and went back to his locker. He switched his books around and went to his next class. Halfway through the class the secretary from the front office came in. She looked around, found Sam, and motioned for him to follow her. Sam got a nervous feeling in his stomach as he stood up. The room spun slightly as he walked out, and he was painfully aware of the eyes on him. 

"The nurse came down from the high school to check on you." The secretary said once they were walking down the hallway. Sam groaned internally. Mr. Lewis must've called the nurse on him. 

"Hi Sam. Come sit over here for me." the nurse said once Sam walked into the office. Sam went over to the chair and sat down, his books resting in his lap. "Mr. Lewis said you didn't look well earlier. Can you tell me what's wrong?" the nurse asked.

"I'm tired and I just don't feel good." Sam croaked. 

"Does your throat hurt?" Sam nodded. The nurse used an ear thermometer and took his temperature.

"Is your dad home?" she asked. Sam shook his head.

"He's out of town with work. Dean's at the high school. He's taking care of me." 

"Okay. I'll call the high school so Dean can come pick you up." 

"Why do I have to go home?" 

"Because you have a fever. It's against the school rules to be at school with a fever." the nurse said. Sam sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. 

"You can go get your bag from your locker. I'll ask the teachers to make a stack of the work you'll need to make up." the nurse said after hanging up the phone. Sam nodded and stood up. Now that he couldn't stay at school he realized how awful he felt. 

Sam made his way to his locker, gathered his bag, and went back to the office. 

"Your brother will be here any minute." the secretary said. Sam nodded and sat down in his chair. He let his eyes fall shut after a few minutes, the soft voices of the adults in the office making him relax. He opened them again when he heard Dean's voice. 

"Hey Sammy. Not feelin' so hot?" Dean asked, palming Sam's forehead. 

"Not so much." Sam answered. Dean signed Sam out and slung Sam's bag over his shoulder. Sam followed him out to the truck, rain falling heavier than when Sam was dropped off. Sam shivered and climbed into the truck. 

"Want the heat on?" Dean asked, pulling away from the school. Sam nodded, folding his arms across his chest to stop the shivering. Dean reached up to the dashboard and cranked the heat. 

The hot air was just starting to make its way through the vents by the time they pulled into the driveway of their rented house. 

Dean hoisted both of their bags onto his shoulder and got out of the truck. Sam groaned and followed, his body threatening to give out on him. Dean noticed and backtracked to Sam's side, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist for support.

"Why didn't you just stay home?" Dean asked once they were inside. He dropped the bags on the floor and followed closely behind Sam as Sam went to the couch.

"I can't fall behind Dean. I should've stayed all day." Sam whispered. Dean could tell Sam was getting all worked up about it. 

"Relax. Just relax. Missing one day won't hurt you." Dean said. He pulled off Sam's jacket and draped it over a kitchen chair before grabbing a blanket off their bed. He tossed it to Sam and went into the kitchen. 

"What will work better, Tylenol or cold and flu?" Dean called. 

"Don't care." Sam croaked back. Dean grabbed both bottles and brought them back to the living room along with a glass of water. 

"Start with this." Dean said handing Sam a few Tylenol pills. Sam took them and curled up under the blanket. Dean grabbed the remote and sat next to Sam.

"Will you bring me to school at the end of the day?" Sam asked. He had tears in his eyes. 

"Sammy, missing one day of 7th grade won't ruin your GPA. You need to get some rest." Dean said pulling Sam into his side. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders. 

"I can't get further behind." Sam whispered. Tears were running down his cheeks. 

"Sammy, you won't be behind. Just go to sleep, okay? You're exhausted." Dean whispered back. He listened to Sam's breathing grow deeper and more even. He felt Sam's forehead, ran his fingers through Sam's hair, and clicked on the TV.

****

"Dean? Why aren't you at school?" John yelled, coming into the living room. Sam jumped awake. His sudden intake of breath brought on a coughing fit. John stopped looking angry and looked concerned instead. Dean sighed in frustration. Sam had only been asleep for a few hours.

"Sam got sent home sick." Dean said pulling Sam back into his side.

"Is he okay? What's wrong?" John asked crouching in front of the couch. He felt Sam's forehead.

"He's got a fever." Dean answered. "I gave him some Tylenol around 11." 

"Any trouble with the office?" John asked, standing up. Dean shook his head. 

"I have to go to school! I can't skip! I'll miss too much work!" Sam cried, his eyes welling up again. 

"I'll make sure you get the work you miss. Don't worry about it." John said quietly, leaning over to kiss Sam's forehead. "Now go back to sleep." 

Sam tucked himself into Dean and closed his eyes. His head hurt and his throat was burning. 

"Can I have a drink?" Sam whispered. 

"Sure Sammy. I'll be right back." Dean whispered back, gently removing himself from the couch. 

John was moving around in the kitchen, looking though all the cupboards. 

"What are you looking for?" Dean asked, filling a glass with water. 

"Do we have any soup?" John asked.

"No. I didn't buy any the last time I went shopping." Dean answered. 

"I'll make a grocery run. Does he need anything else?" John asked. 

"I think he has strep again, so penicillin. Cough drops. Some more Tylenol. We're almost out." Dean listed.

"Okay. I'll head out. You good here with him?" Dean nodded and went back to Sam. His face was pale and he was breathing through his mouth. 

"Drink up Sammy. Don't want you to get dehydrated." Dean said. He handed the glass to Sam and went into the bathroom to get a flashlight. "Open up Sammy." Dean said, walking back to the couch. He crouched down in front of Sam and shone the light on the back of Sam's throat. There were white splotches on the red flesh. "Looks like strep." Dean said rubbing Sam's cheek with his thumb. 

"Feels like strep." Sam croaked. Dean went back into the kitchen.

"He's got strep." Dean told John. John nodded and shrugged on his jacket. 

"I'l be back soon." John said. Dean watched his father leave and heard the Impala start and roar away. Dean sighed and went back into the living room. Sam's foggy gaze was focused on the TV, some game show. 

"Need anything else?" Dean asked, leaning on the arm of the couch. Sam nodded and slowly stood up. He was unsteady on his feet and Dean moved to hold his elbow for support. "Where are you going?" Dean asked. 

"Gotta pee." Sam whispered. Dean could feel Sam's body shivering. 

"I don't need your help Dean. I'm 13, not a baby." Sam huffed, shaking free from Dean's hold on him once they were standing at the bathroom door.

"Okay." Dean replied. He watched Sam go into the bathroom and close the door behind him. Dean sighed and went into the room he and Sam shared. He pulled open Sam's dresser to get Sam a clean change of clothes. He grabbed a tee shirt and a pair of sweats and went back to the living room. Sam was shuffling back to the couch. 

"Change into these. You'll be more comfortable." Dean said handing him the clothes. 

Sam sat down on the couch and pulled his shirt over his head. Dean could see the goosebumps prickling Sam's skin. He took the sweaty shirt and waited for the jeans before tossing them into the laundry pile in the bathroom.

Sam was curled up in a shivering ball when Dean went back to the living room. He sat next to Sam who immediately curled into Dean's side. Dean rested an arm around Sam's shoulders and relaxed into the couch. Sam sighed and closed his eyes. Dean ruffled Sam's hair and watched the rest of the game show. 

****

"He asleep?" John asked quietly, coming in through the front door. 

"Yeah." Dean answered. John kicked off his boots by the door and set a stack of papers on the coffee table. 

"Went to the school and got his work. The woman at the office told me to tell him not to worry about missing school. Guess he was trying to make himself seem healthy so he wouldn't have to come home." John said. Dean nodded and looked down at his sleeping brother. 

"He looked miserable when I picked him up." Dean said. John gently felt Sam's forehead. 

"When does he need more meds?" John asked. He handed Dean a bottle of penicillin he'd managed to pick up without a prescription.

"In about an hour." Dean answered. He clicked the TV off and leaned his head into the backrest of the couch. John went into the kitchen. Dean could hear him fiddling around with pots and the stove. Dean wondered what had caused the sudden change in his father's attitude. Usually, if one of them was sick, he would simply let the other brother care for the sick one. And he almost never made grocery runs. Especially since Dean had gotten his license. 

Sam murmured and rolled around. Dean glanced down at him. His eyes were open and he was staring lazily at the ceiling. 

"Hi-a Sammy. How're you feeling?" Dean whispered. Sam just shrugged, but Dean could see the tears welling up in his eyes. "Dad's making some soup if you want some. He also brought home some penicillin. Want some of that?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and sat up slowly. Dean leaned forward and picked up the glass of water from the coffee table. He handed it to Sam and poured a few pills into Sam's hand. Sam swallowed them with difficulty and leaned back into the couch. 

"You want to move into bed?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "Okay. Let's go." Dean said. He followed Sam to their bedroom and tucked him into the bed. Sam shivered as the cold sheets settled around him. 

"Dean?" Sam croaked. 

"Yeah?" Dean responded, covering the bed with the blanket Sam had been using on the couch. 

"Will you lie with me? I'm cold." Sam whispered. His throat was on fire. The shivers that racked his body made his muscles ache and his head pound. 

"Sure. Let me go check on the soup first." Dean said. Sam nodded. Dean went into the kitchen. John was pulling from a beer bottle and stirring the soup. 

"Almost ready?" Dean asked. John nodded but didn't turn around. Dean pulled three bowls down from the cupboard. "Thanks, uh, for going to the store." Dean said quietly as John poured the soup into the bowls. John just shrugged and took another pull of his beer. Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and carried two bowls back to his room. 

Sam pushed himself up to lean on the wall. Dean handed Sam a bowl and climbed into bed next to him. Sam took a spoonful into his mouth.

"Does it help your throat?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and took another spoonful. "You should start feeling better soon." 

"I hope so. Did you see the stack of work Dad brought home? I can't miss another day. I can't." Sam whispered. 

"You can if you're still sick." Dean said, taking a sip of the soup. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten strep. He seemed to be catching it more and more frequently as he grew up. "Remember last time? It took you almost a week to recover because you wouldn't stay home and let yourself get better. Do you want to miss a week of school?" Dean threatened. He knew what Sam would say.

"Fine. But I won't be sick. I feel better already." Sam lied. He felt awful. The soup was kind of helping his throat, but it still hurt to swallow.

"Okay Sammy." Dean said. He could tell Sam still felt like shit. It was written all over his face, not to mention the way he was swallowing and coughing and shivering. 

Dean finished his soup and looked over at Sam. His eating pace had slowed down majorly. "You done Sam?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and handed Dean the bowl. It was still 3/4 of the way full. Dean brought the bowls into the kitchen. John had disappeared, most likely to some hole-in-the-wall bar across town. Dean rinsed out the bowls and put the leftovers in the fridge. 

"De!" Sam called. He had tried to stand up but his head made his vision blur and the world tilt. He ended up in a heap on the floor, head leaning against the metal bed frame. 

"Sammy?" Dean asked coming to the door. "What the hell happened Sam?" Dean said, rushing to his brothers side once he saw where Sam was. 

"I had to pee, and when I got up everything blacked out." Sam whispered. Dean put his arms around Sam and hoisted him up, carrying him like a baby to the bathroom.

"Dean, I'm not a baby." Sam whined. 

"I know. And you're also not going to school tomorrow." Dean barked. "If you can't even stand up to piss you can't go to school."

"But I can't miss any more work!" Sam croaked. He padded into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Dean waited outside the door to make sure Sam didn't pass out. 

After a minute the toilet flushed and the sink turned on. It stayed on longer than it normally took someone to wash their hands.

"Sam?" Dean barked. No answer. "Sammy?" Dean said again, more gently. He slowly opened the door. Sam was sitting on the closed toilet lid, head in his hands. "Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked. He turned the water off and crouched by his brother.

"I c-can't miss more school!" Sam cried. Dean wiped Sam's cheeks with his thumbs. He noticed how warm Sam's skin was. 

"I know Sammy. Stay here. I'll be right back." Dean whispered, gently kissing Sam's forehead. He stood up and went to find the thermometer in the medkit. He brought it back to the bathroom. "Here," Dean said holding the thermometer up to Sam's lips. Sam took it in his mouth and leaned his head against the wall, using the back of the toilet like an armrest. 

When it beeped Dean took it out of Sam's mouth. "Got yourself a nice little fever Sammy." Dean said. Sam just closed his eyes. "Come on, back to bed." Dean glanced at the clock on the stove as they walked through the kitchen. It hadn't been long enough for more penicillin, but Dean could load Sam up on Tylenol. 

Once Sam was tucked into bed, Dean went to find the Tylenol. It was sitting on the coffee table where John had left it. Dean grabbed it and filled a glass with water. "Here, take this." he said once he's entered their room. Sam opened his eyes and sat up a little. He took the pills with a little difficulty and then laid back on the pillows. Dean could see Sam shivering. He got his hoodie out of his dresser and went back to the bed. "Put this on." Dean said quietly. "It'll warm you up." Sam pulled the hoodie on, leaving the hood up over his head. 

"Will you come to bed?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah. Let me lock up first." Dean answered. He left the thermometer on the nightstand and went into the kitchen. He bolted the door and laid down a new salt line before going into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

"All set?" Dean asked from the doorway of the bedroom. Sam nodded so Dean shut off the light and made his way over to the bed. He climbed in and got comfortable. Sam waited until Dean stopped wiggling before he snuggled up to Dean. Dean wrapped an arm around Sam and listened to him fall asleep before he let himself drift off. 

****

"Dean." John said. He was standing in the doorway, looking at his two sleeping sons. Sam was draped in Dean's hoodie, the cloth swallowing his skinny frame. Dean way lying on his back being a heat source for Sam, who was cuddled up to him. John smiled to himself and went into his bedroom. He dug around in his dresser until he found what he was looking for. His camera. He went back to the boys room and snapped a quick picture, the dim sunlight from outside streaming in on them. The camera spit the photo out and John held it while it developed. He walked back into his room and put the camera away. Waiting for the photo to dry, he found his journal he wrote to his wife in, and fastened the photo to the cover with a paperclip. He grabbed a pen and marked the date along the white strip at the bottom of the photo. He wished his wife were here to see how her beautiful sons had turned out.

"Did you need something?" Dean asked groggily, eyes heavy with sleep, hair sticking up. 

"I was just going to ask whether I should call you two in sick or not." John said.

"You should. His fevers still up." Dean answered around a yawn. 

"Alright. I'll do that before I head into work." John said. Dean nodded and padded back to bed. 

Sam was curled up in a ball and his shivers had returned. Dean poured a few penicillin pills into his hand and gently shook Sam awake. 

"Take these and then you can go back to sleep." Dean whispered. Sam took the pills without even opening his eyes and then curled up under the blankets again. 

Dean put the glass on the nightstand and got into bed. Sam immediately curled up against him. 

"Am I staying home?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean whispered back. 

"That's probably best. Don't feel so good." 

"I know. Go back to sleep." Dean said. He ran his fingers through Sam's sweaty hair and kissed his forehead. 

****

Two Months Later:

"Dean Winchester to the office to be dismissed."

Dean glanced around. 

"Ooh, you're in trouble." A girl named Aliza cooed. Dean just smiled through gritted teeth as he gathered his books and left class. 

When he got to the office the secretary was pointing to the sign out sheet. "Sam is sick. You need to go pick him up." she said. Dean nodded and signed himself out before going to his locker. He got his bag and went out to the parking lot. 

Sam was sitting in the 'sick kid chair' when Dean walked into the Jr. High office. 

"He's got a fever and a sore throat. Claims he feels fine but his teachers and the thermometer state otherwise." the nurse said. Dean signed Sam out as she talked. 

"Okay. Thanks for calling me." Dean said. He looked at Sam again. He was white as a sheet and had beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. "Come on Sammy. Let's go home." Dean said picking up Sam's bag. Sam stood and followed Dean to the truck. He climbed into the front seat and rested his head on the window. The cold glass felt good on his pounding skull. 

"Sam?" Dean asked, sounding worried. He shook Sam's shoulder.

"Huh? What?" Sam croaked.

"Did you hear me at all?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. Dean sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. "I asked if it feels like strep." Dean said. 

"It does but it feels different this time." Sam answered. Dean glanced over at his brother. He looked pretty bad. 

"Different how?" Dean questioned. He reached over and felt Sam's forehead. Definitely warmer than a normal strep fever. 

"It hurts more. And I feel worse than before." Sam croaked. His hands moved up to cover his neck, as if that would make his throat stop hurting. 

"Should I have Dad bring you to the doctor?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. 

"Should I bring you to the doctor?" Dean asked again. Sam sighed. Dean guessed that was a "yes." "I'll talk to Dad when he gets home tonight." Dean said.

"It just feels different. A bad different." Sam said.

"You don't have to convince me. I believe you." Dean said. He could see Sam relax in the seat next to him. 

****

"Go lie on the couch. You look like crap." Dean said once they were in the house. Sam dropped his bag by the door and went to the living room. Dean got a blanket and some sweats from their room. He tossed them at Sam. "Change. And give me your shoes. They're all muddy." Dean said. Sam kicked off his sneakers and jeans and handed them to Dean. 

Sam pulled on the sweats and curled up under the blanket. He swallowed, wincing, and thought he tasted blood. He moved his tongue around in his mouth trying to find the source of the bleeding, but there wasn't one. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let himself fall asleep. 

****

Dean was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book for English class. Sam had been asleep for a few hours. Dean looked up from his book when he heard Sam hustle into the bathroom. Dean got up and followed him. Sam was leaning over the toilet, coughing and spitting into the bowl. 

"You okay Sam?" Dean asked, trying to keep his distance. He didn't handle puke well. 

"There's blood De," Sam cried. Dean's stomach flooded with panic. He looked into the toilet bowl. Sure enough, there was blood. 

"Are you coughing or throwing up?" Dean asked. 

"Throwing up." Sam answered. His throat really really hurt, worse than ever before. Dean's panic lessened slightly. The blood was coming from his stomach, not his lungs, which meant Sam was probably swallowing the blood. 

"Okay. Hold on Sammy." Dean ran to the kitchen to grab the phone and Sam's shoes. He dialed the garage John worked at. 

"Hello, Jacob's Auto Care, John speaking." 

"Dad, Sam is throwing up blood. He came home sick with a fever and a sore throat. What do I do?" Dean rushed out. 

"Woah, what?" John asked. "Never mind. Take him to the ER. I'll meet you there." 

"Okay." Dean said. He hung up and tossed the phone on the counter. He went back to the bathroom. "I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital, okay?" Dean said as calmly as he could. Sam's eyes widened in fear. Dean knew Sam hated hospitals just as much as he did. "It's okay. Dad will meet us there. Let's put your shoes on." Dean said, slipping Sam's feet into his sneakers. "Does your throat hurt?" Dean asked. 

"Really bad." Sam whispered, tears running down his cheeks. Dean grabbed a flashlight from the cabinet and turned it on.

"Open up." Dean said. Sam opened his mouth and Dean shone the light down his throat. "Your tonsils are bleeding, that's where the blood came from. The doctors will fix you up, okay?" Dean said assuring both him and Sam that things weren't worth panicking about. Sam gagged and spit a mouthful of blood into the toilet. "Okay, we've gotta get you to the hospital." Dean said. Sam nodded and grabbed Dean's hand. Dean lead him out to the truck and helped him in. "Let me know if you need me to pull over." Dean said. Sam nodded, tears still falling. "Dad will meet us there. You'll be fine." Dean said grabbing Sam's hand. He gave it a squeeze and peeled out of the driveway. 

****

"Hey, where is he?" John asked, jogging up to Dean in the waiting room. 

"They had to take him in to surgery to take his tonsils out. I guess they're really bad. They were bleeding and making him throw up." Dean answered. John blew out his cheeks and ran his hands through his hair. They sat in the uncomfortable chairs and waited. 

A few hours later, a doctor came by to get them.

"Mr. Russel?" the doctor asked. Dean stood up and glanced at John. They were never supposed to give anybody their real names. John stood up and shook the doctors hand. "Sam will be just fine. We had to take his tonsils out in surgery. He did lose quite a bit of blood, so he'll be tired for a while..." The doctors voice blurred out as Dean stopped paying attention. They had started walking and were outside Sam's room. Dean went in while John talked outside. 

"Hey Sammy. How're you feeling?" Dean asked. Sam was still pale and sweating. 

"Been better." Sam whispered. "Did they take em out?" 

"Yeah. You'll feel better now." Dean said. 

"Where's Dad?" 

"In the hallway with the doctor." Dean answered, handing him a cup full of ice chips. "Stop talking." Dean said. Sam nodded and spooned a few chips into his mouth. 

****

"Dad, we're home." Dean said walking through the door. John had left the hospital only slightly before Dean and Sam had to stop at the pharmacy on the way. John went up to Sam and gave him a gentle hug. 

"How're you feeling?" John asked.

"He can't talk yet." Dean said. John gave a small nod and patted Sam on the head. 

"Go to bed. You look wiped out." John said. Sam shuffled off to the bedroom. 

"I'm gonna go to bed too. Night." Dean said.

"Night. Do you need me tomorrow? I'll stay home if you want me to." John said. 

"We'll be okay." Dean said. He gave John a small smile and went into his room. Sam was curled up in a ball. Dean stripped out of his jeans and flannel and climbed into bed behind Sam. Sam turned into Dean's side and closed his eyes. "Goodnight Sammy." Dean said, closing his eyes. He felt Sam nuzzle into his shoulder as a response.


End file.
